


Jealousy

by SteebRogurz



Category: MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, SPN, Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Dean Being Dean, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:34:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteebRogurz/pseuds/SteebRogurz
Summary: you leave your life as a hunter and find work with the Avengers. What will happen when both worlds collide?
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is something i’ve had in my head for a long time but just haven’t had the motivation to work on it. This teaser is definitely rough and i’m still trying to decide whether to keep working on it or not so please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions for which direction the story might take please reblog or send an ask. Also if anyone wanted to be a beta reader and help me shape the story please let me know because I definitely need the help.

**The Battle of New York**

Screams sounded all around you as people ran through the streets trying to find shelter from falling debris and the aliens that were flying overhead. Aliens. You watched as they came to earth through a giant hole in the sky. Fighting against demons and vampires was enough to keep you busy but now life was throwing aliens into the mix? You stood in the middle of the street in shock for a moment before a man in red, white, and blue grabbed you by the arm shouting at you to get off the streets. The shock faded and you locked eyes with him before you took off running, not into the nearest building away from the fight but towards the worst of it. 

Just as you suspected people were scattered across streets holding injuries of various degrees and scrambling for cover. Armed with medical knowledge as an EMT and the experience of a life spent fighting monsters you slid into old habits. Ripping off your sweater you held it to a man’s arm where a deep gash was pouring blood and rushed him off the street into the nearby restaurant. You left him with a frightened looking family instructions to keep the sweater on the wound before running back out into the street to help anyone else who needed it.

You lost track of how many people you had helped so fat but kept going. Without giving much thought to the violence happening around you, you ran down the street keeping an eye out for anyone who needed help. When suddenly a man appeared in your periphery. He reached out and pulled you closer to him just as something exploded a few feet away from you. The force knocked you off balance and you both fell to the ground as he brought his arm up to shield you from the heat and debris that rained down around you. 

“What are you doing? You need to find cover!” He shouted as you shook your head to clear your vision. 

“I’m working!” You shouted back, pushing him off you and jumping to your feet again. “Get off and let me do my job!” 

The man stood up and you realized he was the same man who told you to get off the streets earlier. “You a medic?” he asked, eyeing your torn and dirt covered t-shirt and jeans. 

Glaring at him you nodded. You weren’t really in the mood to deal with anyone’s doubt so to your relief he nodded and motioned for you to follow him before taking off down an empty street. “Last I saw there was a bus that got attacked, they could use your help.”

You had just moved to New York to get away from your old life and start new. Yet somehow apocalypses seemed to follow you wherever you went. If it wasn’t biblical then apparently it was extraterrestrial. You grabbed a medical bag from an abandoned ambulance and set to work patching people up and helping them to shelter. You kept moving until the fighting stopped and there was no one else left to save. 

Exhausted, you finally sat on a nearby curb and rested your head against your knees, breathing heavily. You were no stranger to long days and chaos all around you but it never seemed to get any easier to deal with. After a minute or so of relative silence you heard the sound gravel crunching under heavy boots then a voice sounded right in front of you. “You were good out there.”

You raised your head to see the man from before kneeling in front of you with a shield strapped to his left arm. Without the adrenaline pulsing through your body you were able to properly focus on him. “Hey, you’re Captain America,” you stated wearily. He was covered in a lot more blood, sweat, and dirt than before but he was still handsome and you quickly looked away before he could see the blush that coloured your cheeks. 

He chuckled and moved to sit on the curb beside you. “I came over to see how you’re doing,” he paused, looking out at the destruction. “And to offer you a job.” 

“A job?” you asked, slightly confused. “As what?”

“As a medic on our team. How would you like to work with the Avengers?”

You blinked at him a few times before a smile finally spread across your face. “Hell yeah!” 

He laughed and laid a hand on your shoulder before standing again and turning to look back at you. “What’s your name kid?” 

You introduced yourself and he left with the promise that he would be in touch.

**Six Years Later**

Working with the avengers was never boring. You bonded quickly with many of them: being able to keep up with Sam’s quick wit, almost drinking Natasha under the table a number of times, and lasting longer than anyone expected in the ring against Bucky. You were happy in this life, you knew where you fit in with everyone without getting too close to anyone. Until you fell in love with the star spangled man himself. 

Despite your attempts at ignoring your feelings for him, Steve found a way into your heart and showed no signs of ever leaving. So you agreed to a date. It was a classic dinner at a fancy restaurant, probably chosen (and paid for) by Tony, and afterward he walked you home. You were tempted to invite him in after the chaste kiss you shared on your doorstep but you stopped yourself, justifying your decision by saying that you didn’t want to rush into anything. You wanted to take your time with him. He bid you goodnight and a year later you found yourself falling more and more in love with him everyday. You shared almost everything together. The rest of the team would describe it as sickeningly sweet but you relished in the feeling of being understood. However, there were still many details about your past you wanted to keep hidden until you were ready. 

Your life as a hunter was something you didn’t like to talk about. There was a lot of pain and trauma that, even after six years, felt like it would never fade. As far as everyone at SHIELD knew, you were an EMT who could throw a decent punch but had never held a gun. Sure, everyone questioned the pentagram tattoo and your various jewellery choices but you were able to keep them satisfied with half truths. Until the Winchesters came crashing back into your life.


	2. Worlds Collide

Sleep never came easily to you. Most nights your dreams were filled with terrifying memories and suffocating images that left you gasping for breath, and Steve would be at your side rubbing your back and trying to get you to talk to him about it. But you always refused, shaking your head and promising that you were fine. You both knew that was a lie but you still insisted on dealing with it yourself. Tonight was different though. Instead of the usual nightmares from your past, your dreams were filled with a dark future where Steve never came back from a mission. 

Images of his shield stained with blood, and a black funeral attended by thousands haunted you. So you sat, curled up, in your favourite armchair, tucked away in the corner of your living room with a book trying to concentrate on the words in front of you as you reminded yourself it was only a dream. 

The squeal of tires against asphalt sounded in the distance and you frowned. The skin in the back of your neck prickled with adrenaline as you instinctively reached out to grip the .45 caliber colt resting on the small table beside you. You didn’t want to believe that you were hearing the familiar rumble of a 1967 Chevy Impala until the sound of car doors slamming shut sounded in your driveway and you jumped to your feet gripping your gun. 

You stood in silence for a few more seconds, the book lay forgotten at your feet, when a loud banging suddenly sounded at your front door. Before you could step forward to open the door Steve was at your side, shield in hand, wearing nothing but his boxers. _No time to get dressed when someone is knocking down your door._ You knew he didn’t miss the gun in your hand but he said nothing. Nothing would ever be the same again.

The banging sounded again, faster this time, more desperate and Steve put his arm out holding you behind him. “Y/N!” A voice shouted. “Y/N, I know you’re home, open up!” 

You froze at the voice before moving around Steve towards the door. “Wait,” he warned in a hushed tone, grabbing hold of your hand and pulling you back. “Don’t answer the door.”

You shook him off and continued to the door. “It’s fine, I know who it is.” You said as calmly as you could, while you knew who was on the other side of the door you were afraid of what state they would be in. Your heart hammered in your chest as you quickly unlocked the door and swung it open to find Sam and Dean Winchester standing in front you covered in dirt and blood. Dean stood, glassy eyed and limping, leaning on Sam for support, barely holding a dirty, blood soaked cloth to his neck while Sam struggled to keep both of them on their feet. It didn’t look like Sam had any life threatening injuries but you didn’t miss the way his left arm hung uselessly at his side.

“Get my kit!” You shouted to Steve as you quickly set your gun down and moved to Dean’s other side. You lead them further into your living room, gently lowering Dean onto your couch and pointing to the ottoman nearby for Sam to sit. 

“What the hell happened?!” You asked as soon as Steve was gone. Despite the amount of blood covering both brothers, it looked like Dean was the only one who was bleeding. You gently lifted the rag from Dean’s neck to find small puncture wounds marking his skin in the very obvious pattern of a human mouth. Luckily for him it was a superficial bite and would heal quickly.

“Vampires,” Sam groaned as he sat down holding his arm. “We were outnumbered,” He paused remembering what they had unknowingly walked into. “And they were working with witches.”

“What?” You turned to face Sam in shock hoping that what he had just told you was a lie, but the seriousness in his tone and on his face confirmed the truth. Before you could ask anymore questions Steve had returned with your med kit. “Don’t move.” You warned but Dean was already slipping in and out of consciousness, so you set to work disinfecting the wounds and closing the larger ones with a few stitches. By the time you were finished working on his neck he had passed out. You then moved on to his leg. Brandishing a pair of scissors you cut down the pant leg and gently probed the large bruise that was forming around his knee, and after concluding that nothing was broken and the bruise was in fact just a bruise you turned your attention to Sam. 

He sat with his arm still hanging at his side and judging by its angle, you guessed that his shoulder was dislocated. You moved to stand behind him and he winced at your touch. 

“Come on you big baby you’ve dealt with worse!” You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips. You were surprised at how easy it was for you to slip back into your rough, guarded personality around them. 

During your time as a hunter there was always something that hurt. Sometimes it was bruised knuckles from spending a little too much time with a punching bag and other times it was from almost having your heart ripped out by an angry ghost, either way that pain helped to remind you that you were alive. 

“Yeah, I’m just not used to it coming from you- AHH!” A quick twist of his shoulder and it popped back into place. You pulled a length of cloth from the kit and secured it around his shoulder keeping his arm in place and Sam let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

You stepped back and took a deep breath glancing over at Steve who stood nearby watching the scene in front of him. In the chaos of mending the brothers you had almost forgotten that he was there and seeing him now in a plain grey t-shirt and sweatpants seemed to surprise you. “Oh Steve! This is Sam and his brother Dean.” You stepped forward and nodded to Dean who was still passed out on your couch. “They’re old friends.” You stated simply and Sam gave you a sharp look that made it clear to Steve there was more to your relationship with them than you were letting on.

Thankfully that was the moment Dean decided to wake up with a gasp and groan as his hand flew to the fresh bandage at his neck. He blinked a few times his eyes slowly roaming around the room as you returned to his side to test his responsiveness. “Has anyone ever told you that your boyfriend looks like Captain America?” Dean asked in a not-so-hushed voice as his gaze went from Steve to you.

“That’s because he is, dude.” Sam spoke up before Steve could, but you could only smile at their antics.

“You lost a lot of blood. You’ll be fine but you might feel as though your head is going to implode.” You informed him gently patting his shoulder. “I’ll be right back with some juice and food for you.” Dean slowly nodded and you made your way to the kitchen with Steve following close behind.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked as soon as you were alone. “Who exactly are they? And what was that about witches?” 

Steve stood in the doorway with his arms crossed looking concerned and you suddenly felt at a loss for words. How could you explain to him the kind of past you had? About how death seemed to follow you wherever you went. 

“There are things in this world that you don’t know about. Things you haven’t seen before.” You pulled a handful of power bars from your cupboard. “I’ve done a lot of things in the past that I’m not proud of and that life is something I’ve been trying to put behind me.” You knew your vague explanation wasn’t going to satisfy him anymore but it had become instinct by that point. 

“We’ve all done things we’re not proud of Y/N.” Steve replied watching you move from the fridge to the cupboards in search of a large glass, but you only shook your head as if to say: _You wouldn’t understand._


	3. God's a Dick

Dean was sitting up when you walked back into the living room and handed him the glass. He sniffed the glass and wrinkled his nose. “I’m going to need something a little stronger than this.” He stated, staring into the glass with a slight frown in his face. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Just drink it, asshole, you need the sugar.” You retorted, dropping the bars on the coffee table in front of him. “You need to eat too." 

Dean made a face at you and you made one at him in return, staring each other down until Steve spoke up behind you. “Y/N.” His tone was more insistent than before, demanding an answer. You broke eye contact with Dean and turned to Steve. He looked annoyed that you were avoiding his questions so you motioned for him to sit down and sat on the coffee table in front of him.

You took a deep breath trying to find the right words so he didn’t think you were crazy. “So, you know vampires, werewolves, and all those other myths and legends.” Steve nodded, waiting for you to continue. “They’re all real, and before I joined the team I used to hunt them. I was good at it too.” 

Steve stared at the floor in silence and you watched with bated breath waiting and preparing for every kind of reaction, and after a minute he raised his head with a serious expression. “So everything is real? Ghosts? Monsters?”

You nodded silently as each of his questions, relieved that he seemed to be accepting what you were saying. 

“And what about heaven and hell?” Steve continued slowly, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Yep,” Dean spoke up from the couch, setting the empty glass down. “God’s real too. He goes by Chuck, and he’s a dick.” Dean was never one to break the news lightly but to your surprise a grin spread across Steve’s face.

“Are you okay?” You asked hesitantly. 

“This makes a lot of sense actually.” He was looking at you as if he was seeing you in a completely new light. You met his eyes and felt a blush spread along your cheeks and a tension release in your shoulders that Steve finally knew the full truth and didn’t reject it. 

You knew he had more questions but the look on Dean’s face told you he was about ready to pass out again. So you took Steve’s hand to get his attention and gave him a small smile. “Let’s let them get some sleep and I can answer your questions,” you suggested and he nodded realizing how late it was. Steve stood from the chair, pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, and bid goodnight to Sam and Dean before heading back towards your room. 

“I’ll be there in a bit.” You promised, watching him walk away, and as soon as Steve was gone you busied yourself with gathering the empty wrappers and Dean’s glass from the coffee table

“So, what’s it like dating a comic book hero?” Sam asked, wincing in pain when he tried to shift his weight. 

You rolled your eyes and held up the bottle of painkillers to him, “don’t start.” You said firmly, you were already tired and in no mood to deal with Sam’s sass. After all this time you thought you were okay. You thought you had made your peace with leaving Sam that night and moved on. But seeing him again, even bloodied and exhausted, you realized that those wounds never fully healed. You still loved him. 

You walked into the kitchen only to distract yourself from the way your heart raced under his gaze. Memories of researching lore together in the library and stealing kisses in dark corners rose to the surface as you washed the cup with shaking hands. 

“So you’re domestic now?” Sam’s voice sounded behind you, revealing nothing about what he was feeling. He leaned against the doorframe watching you moved about the kitchen trying to find anything to keep yourself from focusing on him.

“A lot has changed since I left, Sam,” you shrugged, realizing that you almost missed the sound of his voice.

“Clearly.” He scoffed, stepping forward to pickup an apple from a bowl that sat in the middle of the island. “It’s a nice house though.” He added as if the house was an afterthought. 

“How did you know I lived here?” The thought came to you as you turned off the water and spun to face him with your arms crossed. He only stood there staring down at the apple, avoiding your gaze. 

“I, um, would check up on you from time to time.” He shifted from foot to foot looking almost embarrassed. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me Sam.” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose then sighed in resignation. “I should’ve known.” You knew that you shouldn’t have been surprised, and if you were being completely honest with yourself, there were times when you would search various news sites for any indication of Sam and Dean.

“I just wanted to make sure you were ok! You left in the middle of the night without even saying goodbye and I was worried! I didn’t know if you were alive or not.” Sam rounded the island, closing the distance between you and cupped your cheek with his good hand. Looking up at him you could see the worry on his face and something else in his eyes.

“Sam-” you gently pulled his hand from your face and took a step away. “I can’t be doing this. I’m sorry for not saying goodbye but I left for a reason. I couldn’t live that life anymore.” You look at the floor, finding it too painful to look him in the eye. “I’m happy here,” your voice was barely a whisper as you spoke, and in that very moment you didn’t know if it was a lie. 

Sam frowned and took a step back, “Right.” 

“The shower is down the hall,” You said quickly, leaving Sam alone in the kitchen to check on Dean one last time before grabbing your gun and making your way to your room, softly closing the door. When you walked into your bedroom you found Steve sitting on the edge of your bed with his arms crossed staring at the floor. His shield leaning against the dresser. “Hey hon,” you set your gun on your bedside table. 

He didn’t move when you came to sit with him and you both sat in silence. “Is that your only weapon?” Steve asks after a second, staring at the gun. 

The sudden question took you by surprise but you shook your head. Standing up, you opened the doors to your closet and removed the false back wall to reveal a collection of various weapons hanging neatly from hooks on the wall: a machete, large hunting knife, sawed off shotgun, even a sniper rifle leaned against the side of the closet. 

You tried to suppress a smile as Steve’s eyes widened at your collection of weapons. “Why didn’t you tell any of us?” He finally looked up at you, the small note of betrayal in his voice broke your heart. These weren’t the questions you wanted to answer.

You crossed your arms and shifted from foot to foot. “That was a life I wanted to leave behind. I did a lot of terrible things. I’ve killed people, and I couldn’t take it anymore. It was destroying me.” You closed your closet and met his gaze. “I went through hell, Steve. You can’t even imagine what I’ve been through.” 

Steve looked as if you had slapped him, anger sparked in his blue eyes and disbelief was clear on his face. “We’ve _all_ been through hell, Y/N!” You could tell he was trying to stay calm. “Any one of us would’ve been able to understand what you’ve gone through.” Steve stood from the bed glaring down at you.

Despite his towering stature you didn’t shrink away from him. You had faced worse and you knew he would never hurt you. “No, you don’t get it. I’ve _literally_ been through hell.” 

Steve’s anger dissipated almost instantly as confusion took its place. “You- what? You’ve actually been to hell?” He took a step back. “How is that possible?”

You shrugged almost nonchalantly, “the three of us have never been able to stay dead. We’re actually pretty famous for it.” You stifled a yawn. “Look I’m really tired now, can we talk about this tomorrow?” 

It was clear that Steve didn’t want to wait for the morning but he nodded and climbed into bed with you, pulling you close. “Do you actually know how to use that rifle?” Steve asked, an air of both disbelief and pride coloured his tone.

“I’m not as good as Bucky, but I’m a decent shot.” 

Steve’s laugh rumbled in his chest then went silent again, “Do you still love Sam?” 

Your heart sank at his question and it took you a second to answer him. “That was a long time ago.” you whispered into the darkness. You knew that wasn’t the answer he was looking for but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit the full truth to him.


	4. I Got You

After all the excitement it didn’t take long for either of you to fall asleep. Steve went first, his breathing deepening and you could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his bare chest against your back. You had a little more trouble but soon enough your eyelids were becoming heavy and you drifted off into a shallow and restless sleep. Then the next thing you knew you were waking up again by the sound of glass being shattered in your living room. Your hand instantly went to your gun that still lay on your bedside table as Steve jerked awake beside you. **  
**

“What the hell?” he looked at you in confusion

You shushed him as you slowly slid out of bed and crept to the door, cracking it open to investigate. Through the opening you could hear Sam fighting whatever had broken in, vampires, you guessed from the sound of the snarls that followed. They must have found the boys’ scent and wanted to finish the job. You reacted instantly as you quickly turned to your closet, throwing open the doors and pulling two machetes from the wall. You silently handed one to Steve, who stood behind you, shield in hand, ready to fight. 

“The only way to kill vampires is to cut their head off,” you instructed quickly. “Don’t hesitate, and don’t underestimate them, they are faster and stronger than you think.” Steve nodded as you silently opened the door and crept out into the hall.

You only got halfway down the hall when a figure jumped out, snarling and teeth bared, from the empty room and you reacted quickly. You manage to block it’s attack by raising your arm, and growled in pain as it sank its teeth into the soft flesh of your arm. You tried to push the vampire away but it’s body was heavy against yours as it beared down on you staring at you with bloodlust in its dark eyes. You struggled against the vampire for a second then you caught the flash of a machete and the vampire crumpled, its head falling to the hardwood at your feet. You quickly glanced at Steve holding the bloody blade and nodded in thanks before continuing.

More vampires charged at you down the hall but you quickly and easily dispatched them with Steve’s help. When you made it to the living room you found bodies littering your house, blood splattered everywhere and Sam fighting with the last one. Without thinking you break into a sprint and throw your body against the vampire hitting the floor. You wrestled with the vampire, both of you trying to get the upper hand but you slipped on the slick blood. It quickly overpowered you and you let out a yelp when you felt it bite into your shoulder. You squeezed your eyes shut against the pain and the weight against your body when it suddenly disappeared. You heard a crash from across the room then a dull thump and opened your eyes to see Sam standing over the headless body.

You brought your hand up to your shoulder feeling the small puncture wounds in your skin; your eyes never left Sam as he swayed in place before collapsing to the floor. You scrambled to your knees trying to get to him but Steve was there first to catching him before his head hit the floor. You could see gashes across his chest. They didn’t look too deep but he was steadily losing blood and his breathing was shallow and laboured, worry lanced through your heart at how pale Sam had become.

In a second you scrambled to your feet and vaulted over the back of the couch in search of Dean and your medical kit. “Cas, if you can hear me, I need you to get your feathery ass down here.” You spoke into the empty air as you searched. You found Dean first. He was bloody but alive and conscious and that was all you needed to know for now. The med kit was harder to find and you grew more frantic with each passing second. You needed to get back to Sam before he bled out on your living room floor. You eventually spotted it partially hidden behind a knocked over plant in the corner and within seconds you had it in your hands tearing it open as you sprinted back to Sam’s side.

He had gone pale by the time you reached him again and barely moved as you tore the remains of his shirt open to press a handful of gauze to his chest. Blood seeped into the fabric and you could feel the faint beat of his heart beneath your hands as you prayed. “Cas please,” your voice no more than a whisper but it was heavy with desperation and fear. 

When it was clear that Cas wasn’t coming, you changed plans. “Help me get him to the car.” You said with steel in your voice, not looking up at Steve. You would have to move fast if you were going to get him to the compound in time. 

“He needs to go to the hospital,” Steve stated jumping into action, supporting Sam’s weight as you both half carried, half dragged him out to the impala. You grabbed Dean’s jacket in the process shaking your head. “No hospital, I’m taking him to the compound,” you spoke quickly and quietly as you lowered Sam into the passenger seat. “I need you to get Dean and meet us there.” You instructed as you sprinted to the driver’s side and quickly slid behind the wheel and turned the key. A shiver ran up your spine as the familiar purr vibrated in your bones. Dean rarely let anyone drive the impala and you allowed yourself a moment of excitement before throwing her into reverse. “And call Tony!” you shouted over the roar of the engine as you sped out of the driveway.

Morning light bled over the horizon as you flew down the highway, breaking several laws in the process, and prayed you wouldn’t be too late. Sam let out a groan as his head rolled to the side, a pained look spread across his features. "Hold on Sam,” you pleaded and accelerated your speed. Thankfully the traffic was sparse and you were able to make it to the compound in record time. You pulled to a stop by the front doors and found Tony waiting with a stretcher and opened the passenger door to get to Sam. 

“What the fuck, Y/N.” Tony whispered examining Sam’s chest. The bleeding had slowed since you began the drive but his complexion had paled even more, his lips held a shadow of purple. 

“I need you to get as much O negative blood as possible,” you ordered, as you moved through the building quickly, finding your way to the infirmary with ease. Tony nodded moving ahead of you to open doors and move things out of the way. “Y/N, who is this? What the hell is going on?”

“What the fuck do you think is going on Tony?” You snapped. “I need to fix this or he’s going to die.” You almost choked on that last word, shaking the thought from your head. You didn’t want to think about what would happen if Sam died. Dean would never forgive you, and neither would you. Even after all these years Sam still meant too much to you to lose. Within minutes you were through the doors to the infirmary and with practiced movements you began a blood transfusion before focusing completely on closing Sam’s wounds. 

You gave little regard as time slipped by, nothing else mattered to you at this very moment except for the survival of Sam Winchester. You barely registered the pain in your shoulder or the ache deep in your muscles. Sunlight steadily filtered into the room as you worked. You don’t know how long you spent stitching Sam back together but as soon as you finished, your legs buckled and you had to brace yourself on the edge of the bed to keep yourself from fully collapsing. Strong hands gripped your upper arms and guided you to a nearby chair where you sat down heavily with a deep sigh. Steve knelt in front of you searching your eyes for any indication that you were okay. You stared back, finding some comfort in his blue eyes and smiled wearily. Sam was alive. It would take a while for him to wake up and even longer to heal without Cas’s help, but he would be okay. “Where’s Dean?” You asked moving to stand. “I need to check on him.” But Steve shook his head and gently pushed you back into the chair reaching for some clean gauze.

“Dean is fine, and you need to look after yourself.” He eyed your shoulder and arm where the teeth marks slowly seeped blood. You examined your arm with fascination, the pain becoming more and more evident as the adrenaline in your veins dissipated, you rolled your shoulders and winced at the sharp twinge from the movement. Pain and exhaustion weighed on your muscles and you could barely shift to allow Steve to gently dab at your wounds. You leaned forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder and you just barely caught his whispered promise to you before you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, “I got you.”


End file.
